


Love In The Asylum

by bluemooning



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Dirty Talk, Grinding, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Smut, M/M, Mindbreak, a lil bit??, iwa-chan is heartbroken, sad reminiscing, the good stuff, this is mostly just straight up angst tbh, ummmmmm, you know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-05-14 14:09:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5747359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluemooning/pseuds/bluemooning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While in search of refuge, Iwaizumi finds himself falling into a void; one he thought he would never encounter again. It's got brown eyes, soft skin, and a voice like acid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love In The Asylum

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by the Dylan Thomas poem of the same name; you can read it [here](http://allpoetry.com/Love-In-The-Asylum)  
> I mostly wanted to create a little morsel before school starts, so here it is!

There's no room for Iwaizumi to think right now. His thoughts and realizations are all in the way, and tossing them aside is second nature. The air between him and the man straddling his hips is heated, burning him up from the inside out. His back is pressed flush against the bed, and when he holds tonight's lover close, they melt together in a burning display of passion.

"Iwa-chan," the voice breathes into his mouth.

It's been years since anyone called him that.

When they pull apart gasping, the fog in Iwaizumi's mind clears slightly; not enough to fully break his stupor, but enough to bring words to his lips. "Oikawa," he manages, before he's silenced by a long, slow kiss; the kind that makes him forget, that lets him relax, if only for a moment. But it's too late now; he doesn't want to forget. They've both become adults in the blink of an eye and this night will disappear in another blinding flash if Iwaizumi isn't careful.

Against all of his instincts, he pushes Oikawa away. Caught off guard, he falls backward, and only manages to catch his balance on pure reflex. It reminds Iwaizumi of high school, back when they tore up the court with all of their strength. He wouldn't have those memories if Oikawa hadn't been there; the sweet taste of victory and the bitterness of defeat, those magic moments when a play went just right, and the camaraderie of being together, of being a team. Iwaizumi had always thought he would treasure those memories, but now, they're irreversibly tainted.

"Shittykawa," says Iwaizumi, glaring daggers at Oikawa, "I paid for a whore, so what the hell are you doing here?"

After all this time, Oikawa still carries his bad personality like a good luck charm. He winks and leans forward, his weight bold. "You get what you pay for," he whispers in that voice, the one he always used when he wanted to intimidate. But its edge is gone, Iwaizumi realizes. He wants to figure out what exactly has changed about it, but then Oikawa's all over him again, his long fingers pressing red marks into his skin. 

"I want a refund," Iwaizumi says firmly, turning his head away when Oikawa comes closer. Undeterred, he showers Iwaizumi’s cheek with fluttering kisses. They’re the kind that make Iwaizumi weak in his belly, and he grits his teeth under the pressure. Words can't come easily in a moment like this. "How the hell-" he tries again, writhing under Oikawa's teeth, now nipping at his skin. He can smell iron from his blood in the air, the pain making him melt all over again. 

It takes all of his strength to sit up, pushing Oikawa off of him, sending him toppling. Iwaizumi's face is shadowed in the dimly lit room. Blood slowly streaks down his neck as he looks down on Oikawa with an authority that comes naturally.

"You're gonna tell me everything, Shittykawa," he says, and when Oikawa makes a mewling noise and goes in for a hug, he grabs his wrists in mid-air and keeps him back. "Stop it. Stop it with these...um, these..."

"Mind games?" Oikawa offers up, and in that moment, Iwaizumi dearly wants to punch him. Even after all this time, this man still knows him so well; can still read his mind as if they were a single consciousness.

"These mind games," Iwaizumi continues, "And you're gonna explain yourself, why you wouldn't answer your phone, why you stopped coming to tournaments..." He gulps hard.  _ Why you vanished. _

Oikawa falls limp in his grasp. His muscles, all tensed up and primed for action, have gone slack. He looks smaller now, and his eyes flicker to Iwaizumi for a fleeting moment before averting him again. "I got injured for real," he says simply, his mouth curling up at the corners.

"Dumbass, didn't I tell you-" Iwaizumi's grip tightens on Oikawa, until his wrists are becoming visibly red. He's about to go off on Oikawa, but then he notices that his mouth has fallen agape, and his cheeks are streaked with tears.

"They kicked me off the team," Oikawa says quietly. "Said it was too much of a liability," his voice shakes and Iwaizumi hates it. He wraps Oikawa up in his arms and lets him blubber wetly. "I lost volleyball," Oikawa whimpers. "I lost my sports scholarship," he clears his throat, and lets go of Iwaizumi. His eyes are still bloodshot, but he still smiles like a star going supernova. "And then I met this man," his grin intensifies, and Iwaizumi can feel heat rising from him once again. "And he told me how good I was at this,"

In an instant, he's back on Iwaizumi, getting handsy like they used to in the storage closet, the ball carts and spare uniforms the only witness to their sin. It's the side of Oikawa that no one else sees; he never let them, after all.

"How good you were at being a whore?" Iwaizumi spits out, more caustic than he intended. But if Oikawa is hurt, it doesn't show. He moves with purpose, stroking the head of Iwaizumi's stiffening cock with the pad of his thumb. His actions are slow and practiced, causing Iwaizumi to buck and moan.

"How rude of you, Iwa-chan," Oikawa scoffs. "You're no angel yourself. Sure, you might have been waiting here for me like some kind of blushing bride, but that's not the case, is it?" With his other hand, he pushes Iwaizumi onto his back, and slides onto him like a predator. "You got all dressed up and came to this love hotel ‘cause you wanted a fuck. It doesn't matter how or who, just a body to hold, to ruin..." His hands are back on Iwaizumi's chest, prodding and pinching at any free surface. Their cocks rub together, hard and wanting. "To destroy," he whispers huskily, and there it is again, his smile that sends a dagger through Iwaizumi.

Oikawa's dirty talk has always been something else; it's what has always proved the true depth of their relationship. But like everything else, it's now tainted to the core. How many other strangers has he said these words to; how much of it is really for Iwaizumi, and how much is for an easy bit of cash? The thought sends him reeling; but tonight is not for thinking. It was never supposed to be.

He flips Oikawa onto his stomach with an easy motion. As if he were anticipating it, his ass is high in the air, and he glances back at Iwaizumi wryly. "Eager, aren't we," he teases, but his hands are clenched into fists, gripping the sheets tightly. 

"Shut up, dumbass," Iwaizumi orders him, and for now, there's nothing more to be said. It's too late anyway; with or without thinking about it, he's already lost. The feeling of Oikawa under him, the way his chest burns in this moment, he's going mad. He's gone mad, falling fast into the void without a shred of hope to grab onto.

But when Oikawa clenches up tighter, and cries his name out, Iwaizumi can imagine that he won't wake up alone tomorrow morning; that he and Oikawa will be able to have their happily ever after. For now, he can pretend that he will be able to hold onto Oikawa forever; and with that, his mind goes blank and pure and utterly thoughtless.


End file.
